


Days Gone By

by daasvedanya



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-07-13
Updated: 2012-07-13
Packaged: 2017-11-09 22:06:17
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,067
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/458971
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daasvedanya/pseuds/daasvedanya
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>DAY 96</p><p>Mr. Gold left his house for the first time since Belle was discovered – rescued – from the basement of the hospital to find no single red rose thrown carelessly onto his porch. </p><p>(A tale of courtship and the passing of days. And wanting Gold to work for his lady love back. A little bit (500) Days of Summer, minus all the hipster angst.)</p>
            </blockquote>





	Days Gone By

DAY 96

Mr. Gold left his house for the first time since Belle was discovered – _rescued_ – from the basement of the hospital to find no single red rose thrown carelessly onto his porch. His heart quickened for a moment and his eyes darted across the wooden decking, searching for it. When he was sure it wasn’t there, he breathed, slow and steady.

He chose to take the long route to his pawnshop in order to pass Moe French’s house. He stopped on the sidewalk below and looked up to see her sitting on the window seat, several pillows piled up between her back and the wall. Opposite her, soaking up the sunshine, was a red rose in a vase.

She looked down when she felt his gaze on her and for several moments all they did was stare at one another. Finally, he made a move and nodded to the rose inquisitively.

Her eyes glanced to it for a moment before landing back on him. She shrugged noncommittally and when he smiled in response, he could see the flush rise to her cheeks all the way from the sidewalk. She quickly returned her attention to her book, her mouth a straight line, neither a frown nor a smile. Well, progress was progress.

 

DAY 1

There was a crowd already forming around the hospital when Mr. Gold snaked his way through it. There was no need for him to throw elbows; people parted like the Red Sea at the mere sight of him. He felt his heart stop when Emma emerged from the hospital and in her arms was Belle – broken, battered, fragile, a ghost of the princess he once knew, but _alive_. He stumbled toward them and it wasn’t graceful, he knew, but all he wanted was to _see_ her, to know that this wasn’t a dream.

“Sheriff Swan,” he began and was quickly cut off by the blonde he was addressing.

“Not now, Gold. If you might be able to tell, I have other matters that require my attention.”

“Matters that I might be able to help with.” His eyes remained locked on the crumpled figure in Emma’s arms, afraid that the moment he took them off her, she’d vanish.

Emma paused for a moment on the way to her car. “You _know_ her?” The two stopped and both stared at her now.

For the first time, Belle gave some indication of life and craned her neck to look at Mr. Gold. His breath caught and he couldn’t help but hold it, waiting. Her eyes searched every line of his face until the look of recognition dawned on her face and she gasped. His heart leapt into his throat. For a moment, everything was about to fall into place again.

Until suddenly Belle scrambled out of Emma’s arms and before her knees could buckle beneath her, she grabbed onto the lapels of Mr. Gold’s suit and pounded her fists against him. “You _coward_! You despicable – how could you – ”

He could do nothing in that moment but stand stock-still and let her wail against him. In moments Emma wrapped her arms around Belle and pulled her away from him. As she led the small girl adorned in nothing but hospital scrubs, she turned her head over her shoulder to glare at Mr. Gold. And his heart hurt once more at the realization she remembered – oh, did she remember.

It would be much harder to win her back now.

 

DAY 35

The last person he expected to see in the Sheriff’s station was Belle and yet, that was exactly who he came across, sitting quite assuredly in Emma’s office. Their friendship had not gone unnoticed by him, of course. At first Belle had seemed to latch onto Emma as the person who rescued her; she found solace and safety in Emma’s presence. As Belle’s confidence grew and she began to assume her own role in Storybrooke, she still hadn’t left Emma’s side. If it were to continue like this, they would undoubtedly be a force to be reckoned with.

He stopped when he saw her, resting his weight on his cane. “Belle.”

“Isabelle,” she replied evenly.

Inwardly, he winced. To her, he merely bobbed his head in understanding. “Business with the Sheriff? You two seem to have become quite close, dearie.”

“I work here now. Well, volunteer. I like it here, and Emma.” That didn’t surprise him in the least. “My first choice would have been the library but there’s not much you can do when it’s boarded up.”

Her voice was cool, but it was some of the most she’d said to him since being found. “Perhaps that’s something you can work on with your new… power.”

She regarded him and then lifted her chin, eyes darting to the manila envelope in his hands.

“Paperwork for the Sheriff.”

She sat up expectantly, eagerly. “I work for the Sheriff.”

“Volunteer,” he said, not unkindly. She glared at him for that. It felt like ages that they stayed like that, staring at each other and she may not have smiled at him like she used to but she was breathing and there was no sign of clerical abuse. He thought this might have been a ‘moment’ until it was interrupted by Emma calling Isabelle’s name as she walked back into the station.

Mr. Gold turned towards her and when Emma saw him, she was thoroughly unimpressed. She looked at Be – _Isabelle_ and he could read that look: _Are you okay?_ He gripped his cane but at least she was being looked after and if anyone were to keep her from the harm of Regina, there were worse people than Emma. He didn’t know what Belle had shared with Emma and, frankly, he was not sure he wanted to find out. Undoubtedly, Emma would question him about it later.

“Can I help you, Mr. Gold?”

His smile was tight. He held up the envelope. “Miss Blanchard can move on from this horrible misunderstanding now.” Emma looked skeptical but held out a hand where he delivered the papers.

He let himself have one last look at Belle, who matched it, before leaving.

 

DAY 121

He didn’t know how long he had been home from the pawnshop but it wasn’t long enough to make a cup of tea before there was a knock on his door. With a sigh, he limped back to the foyer on his cane and he was fully intending to get rid of whoever it was with much haste. Until he saw who it was, however.

“Belle,” he breathed. She stared at him for several moments and then stepped forward and he thought she was going to hit him again, tell him that the rose in her window was a cruel joke. What he didn’t expect was for her to grab the sides of his face and earnestly press her lips to his.

Suddenly all the oxygen rushed back to him and he was given life as he hesitantly rested his hands on her hips. When she pulled back, still cradling his face, her expression was curious. “You’re still you.”

He had to blink himself out of his glazed state before he understood her meaning. “There’s nothing for me to turn into now, dearie.” She licked her lips uncertainly. “Does this mean you’ve forgiven me?”

“It means I wanted to see what would happen if I kissed you. And how it would feel.”

“And?” Every ounce of hope he had was in that one word.

“And I like it. I think I’d like to do it again sometime.”

“Oh?” He leaned forward, a smile coming forth, but was stopped short when she pressed a finger against his lips.

“Ah, ah. I said sometime, not now.” She put forward her own smile in response to the way his face fell. “Besides, it sounds like your kettle needs you more than I do right now.” She inclined her head towards his open door before turning on her heels and quickly descending the steps. She looked back at him over her shoulder and then quickly darted around the corner.

 

DAY 2

When Gold looked up at the sound of the front door of his shop opening, he was completely unsurprised to find Sheriff Swan walking in. After the greeting Belle had given him the day before outside the hospital (a sight he had unable to get out of his head since), he knew it was only a matter of time until the Sheriff would want to know all about it.

He continued to polish the candelabra in his hands and gave nothing away as she approached, though inwardly his emotions were a tumultuous frenzy. He had been kept up by the joy of Belle still being alive, the devastation of still having lost her, the rage and morbid fascination of the different ways he could destroy Regina for this, and it was all happening so quickly.

“Sheriff Swan,” he greeted casually, finally looking up to find her scrutinizing him. He could only envision the ways she was imagining he had terrorized Belle and how he was undoubtedly a suspect in Belle’s unlawful imprisonment. He gripped the candelabra tighter at the thought, knuckles going white.

“I’m sure you can guess why I’m here.”

“It’s not me you should be after.”

“I’m not _after_ anyone yet, but you clearly know a hell of a lot more about what’s going on here than I do and I’m trying to get answers.” She let her eyes wash over his demeanor and he made sure to give nothing away. “I’ve put two and two together. This girl, Isabelle, she’s why you attacked Moe French.”

“No, I attacked Mr. French because he _stole_.” He was quick to correct her.

“Oh no, we’re not playing that game today, Gold. You know I heard you. What do you think he _did_ to her? Because all I saw when they were reunited was a father and daughter desperately happy to be with each other again.”

The image made him sway slightly as he set down the candelabra. The mistakes he had made were eating away at him. She had been alive all this time, he could have _saved_ her if he had only tried and believed. It was enough to make him sick. “I made a mistake,” he admitted softly.”I’ve made several mistakes. But I would highly caution you not to make the mistake to believe I had anything to do with Be – Miss French’s imprisonment.”

Emma narrowed her eyes at his slip-up. “Well, after the way she greeted you –”

“She has her own reasons for that. Valid reasons but reasons, nonetheless, that do not have to do with this. I have no interest in sharing the nature of my relationship with her but harm coming to her is the last thing I want.”

Emma considered. “All right, I’ll indulge you. Who _should_ I be… after?”

He laid his hands flat on the table in front of him and felt his blood boiling. “Mayor Mills.”

“Why am I not at all surprised?” She sighed. “Do you have any leads or evidence to back this accusation up, Gold?”

“Not yet but I have my reasons to believe – ”

“This is _serious_ , Gold, too serious to allow me to get caught up in this grudge match. This girl has been _traumatized_ and – ”

“Sheriff Swan,” he interjected through gritted teeth, his insides twisting from the mere thought of the pain Belle has had to suffer. “Do not lecture me on this. This was Regina’s doing and I damn well intend to have proof of it. There is your lead, Sheriff Swan. I suggest you do your job and follow it.”

 

DAY 187

Magic was seeping back into Storybrooke. The other day had seen Prince Charming pleading with Mary Margaret on the street, saying something about always finding each other. Geppetto had remembered early on because of the close presence of his son and August could not have been happier. Magic was seeping into Storybrooke, but it was not sweeping. It was confusing and frightening and Belle and Rumpelstiltskin watched it all with baited breath. She swore, as she traced a finger down his bare chest in the early morning sunlight, that she could see tints of green coming back into his skin.

“Does that mean I must make the most of the time I have left with you?”

Belle propped her head up off his chest to look at him. “I love you, Rumpelstiltskin.” She leaned forward and gently pressed her lips into his. “So shush if you don’t know what you’re talking about.”

One day after Ashley told Belle about a dream she had the previous night about glass slippers over lunch at Granny’s and then Belle told Gold, he knew the dam was about to break.

“You look surprised, love,” Gold said softly as Belle came into the kitchen with a stack of books in her arms.

“I… am.” She set down the books on the counter and then approached the table. “Baelfire, it’s good to see you here.” The younger man stood up to hug her fiercely.

“It’s good to be here,” he said as he pulled away and glanced sideways at his father and held out a chair for Belle before sitting back down himself.

“You two must be prepared for what’s about to happen.” Bae and Belle looked between themselves worriedly as Gold spoke. “You two are infinitely precious to me and I will protect both of you at all costs. But I am not going to sugarcoat anything. Things _are_ going to get dangerous and people _are_ going to get hurt, perhaps even die. And you two will be my priorities for the storm that’s about to hit.”

“Papa, we can _win_ this. We have numbers on our side. Emma… Emma _believes_ and we will all fight.” Bae shook his head emphatically and clenched his fist. “After all we’ve been through, after all _everyone’s_ been through, we can _do_ this.”

“You two need to be safe, you – ”

“If you think that means we won’t fight and we’ll hide away instead,” Belle interrupted, “You’ve got another thing coming and you clearly don’t know us very well.”

Gold grimaced. “That’s precisely my point. And we _do_ have strength in numbers but I…  merely want you to be _prepared_. And ready for what’s about to come. If anything were to happen to either of you…”

Belle reached over and took his hand. “Well then, we’ll just have to make sure nothing happens to _any_ of us, won’t we?”

“It’s not that simple – ”

“Yes, it is,” Baelfire declared, “Unless you have some spell to keep us invincible, all we can do is protect each other and fight, even if it’s to our last breath.” Belle squeezed Gold’s hand tightly when he tried to speak again. “The thought of losing the ones you love is terrifying, but we cannot avoid this fight and we cannot run from it. This fight is for everyone’s happy ending and that is worth more than anything.”

Gold sighed and conceded. They spoke into the night of strategies and Gold could see the pleased look on Belle’s face every time father and son spoke. Here they were speaking of an impending and epic battle that could ultimately lead to the death of their loved ones and even themselves and she betrayed no sign of fear. She saved the lives of all her loved ones in exchange for her own life; she fell in love with a monster; when she was rescued from decades of imprisonment, she battled her nightmares courageously; she warmed to his son instantly, threading herself in his life in such a way that bound them together for the rest of time. He half-wondered if she would ever stop amazing him. He doubted it.

In the end, the battle was terrible. The funeral held for Doc and Sneezy was simple and Snow White gave a moving eulogy. When Geppetto died in his son’s arms, Pinocchio was distraught beyond measure and all Emma could do was hold him. Red had carried a bleeding Rumpelstiltskin on her back. The streets of Storybrooke were cracked and gave way to the Enchanted Forest; it was over, they were going home.

 

DAY 21

He was eating at the diner, a newspaper laid out in front of him (for no other reason than to have something to read given how old it was), completely unaware of the goings on in the rest of the establishment. He brought the mug of coffee to his lips just as the bell on the front door jangled. With no mind to look up, he set down his mug after taking a swallow, and it was good he did that _before_ the yelling began.

“How _dare_ you!” He would know that voice anywhere and his eyes shot up to see Belle stalking towards him, face flushed with rage. “You monster,” And he winced because there was a time she would have vehemently denied him having any association with that word. “He never did _anything_ to you!”

There it was. Gold knew what he had done to get her so angry this time. He was quick to drop some cash on the table before awkwardly getting to his feet, one hand curling around his cane and the other around her arm. “Come on, dearie, this isn’t the place for this, wouldn’t you agree?” He gritted his teeth as he made his way for the door, eyes staring straight because hearing the whispers was enough.

She wrenched her arm away from his grasp as soon as they were outside but followed him, huffing and puffing, to the backside of the diner where they would have a little more privacy. He knew she wouldn’t believe him but he wanted to escape from there as quickly as possible for _her_. It would do her no good to alienate herself from the community when she was still the main subject of gossip as it was, no matter how far she had come.

“This is about the... altercation I had with your father, I presume?”

“ _Altercation_? You _kidnap_ my father and nearly _beat_ him to death and you have the gall to call it an _altercation_?” Her fists were clenched at her sides but it was the fury in her eyes that hurt him the most. He had had the idea to speak with her once he knew she had been doing better and explain things, beg her forgiveness but he knew now it would have been fruitless. That didn’t mean he was giving up. Oh, no, far from it. He had made costly mistakes in the past to lose the two people who meant the most to him and now that he had one of them back, he was going to get her back no matter what it took.

He sighed. “He took something from me. Something quite... precious.”

“What did he take?” When Gold said nothing, Isabelle took a step forward and growled. “You at least owe me that much after all you’ve done.”

He knew she was right. Of course she was. And he knew now, of course, that her father had done nothing. When Belle was found, she began living with her father, quite contentedly it seemed, and locked herself away in the safety of his home for the first few weeks. Her interaction with Storybrooke had been limited to house visits from Sheriff Swan and Dr. Hopper. She began a tentative dance with the people of the town when she finally dared venture out. Eventually, and with great help from the smile that he found still set his heart racing (though it had yet to be aimed at him), she began to be accepted into the folds of the community, no longer sent looks of pity and fear.

“A cup. Your cup. The one you... chipped. My only reminder of you when I thought you were dead.”

The slap was a surprise.

“No. _No_. You do not get to stand here and say that – ”

“It’s the truth – ”

“ _Stop_. You don’t get to _throw me out_ when all I did was love you and then tell me you kept the cup as a _sentimental keepsake_. Remember that queen you accused me of working for? She’s kept me locked up ever since _you_ made me leave, told me I was some… pawn to use against you.”

“I know that now – ”

“ _Now_?” She watched him rub his cheek and he searched her eyes for any trace of remorse and found none. Or at least none that she wanted him to find.”Little good that did me. Why didn’t you know _then_?”

“She told me you were dead, that your father… he…”

“And you _believed_ her? You believed my _father_ would harm me?”

“I didn’t have a choice – it was… easier. And I’ve seen the cruelty of humanity many times before, Belle.”

“Oh, that’s funny because so have I. And you – ”

“Is there a problem here?”

Both of them turned at the sound of Emma’s voice. Gold didn’t know if he wanted to curse her or thank her for interrupting when she did.

When neither of them spoke, Emma continued, “Ruby called me in, wanted to make sure no one got hurt. Though I’m not sure who she was more worried about.”

Gold sighed. “There’s no problem here, Sheriff Swan.”

Not looking like she believed him, she swung her head towards Belle to gauge the young girl’s impression of the situation. Belle’s shoulders deflated and she shook her head. “Everything’s fine, Emma.”

The Sheriff looked between the two for several moments before determining that everything was, in fact, okay. “… all right.” Her posture relaxed and shifted her gaze back to Belle. “I’m a little hungry. How about you?”

Belle was a little taken aback but when she was able to tear her gaze away from Gold and to Emma, she nodded and stepped towards her. “Now that you mention it, I _have_ worked up an appetite.” Emma smiled and spared Gold a warning look, but he knew all too well when he wasn’t wanted. He watched their retreating backs before turning himself and releasing a deep, rumbling sigh.

 

DAY 142

Mr. Gold was snapped out of the concentration he was paying to his book by a shriek of laughter right outside his home. It came later than he had expected. Gently, he dog-eared the page he was on and rested the book in his lap. From his seat, he could see Bae and Belle walk up the path, arms linked and smiles plastered on their faces. He didn’t know whether to be gladdened by the fact that Belle and Bae got along so well or disappointed that his son wouldn’t be following her into the house. He saw Bae lean down to kiss her cheek gently and say his goodnights before leaving.

Hastily he opened his book again to make it seem as though he had been reading rather than watching when Belle came in. Of course, she knew what she had been really doing regardless; she was just respectful and mindful of him enough not to bring it up.

As he heard her hanging up her coat and padding softly through the house to where she knew she’d find him, he looked up to greet her. “You’re later than I expected.” His gentle, sad tone melted away any accusatory implications the statement could have held, as well as the smile.

“Henry brought up ice cream and I couldn’t fight the craving,” she explained simply and deposited herself on the arm of the chair he was sitting in. She grabbed his chin gently and turned his face upwards to lean down and kiss him. “You know, after being deprived of that for so long, I don’t think I’m going to be tired of it for a long while.”

“I would hope forever.”

She shrugged and responded playfully, “We’ll see how it goes.” She gasped in surprise but was soon laughing as he pulled her down into his lap, hands at her sides in punishment. He smiled into her hair, knowing full well that he, at least, would never be tired of kissing her.

As a comfortable silence settled between them, he plucked up his courage. “How is he?” He ran his fingers unconsciously over her arm.

“He misses you.” A slight annoyance traced the edge of her words. He knew she was tired of the unnecessary separation between father and son. He was too. “He doesn’t want you absent; he just needs to ease into it. Like I did.”

“Yes, with a couple of hearty slaps,” he teased.

She swatted his arm gently. “But eventually I did, didn’t I? Not that I didn’t always know we’d find our way back to each other.”

“Oh, did you now?”

“Of course.” She rested her forehead against his temple. “True love and all that. But I wanted to fight it. I _tried_ to,” she said honestly and he winced. At his response, she pulled her head back to look at him. “Silly man, I wouldn’t trade this for anything else in the world. I love you.”

“And I love you too,” he breathed.

“He has a lot to deal with right now. He didn’t only get his father back, but his son too. He and Emma have a lot to figure out and he needs to make up the lost time with Henry, just as you do with him.” It sounded so straight-forward when she said it. It made him feel almost ashamed. She smiled encouragingly at him and he wanted her to look at him that way forever. Because there had been so many days of torment when he thought that she never could again. “Spend some time with us, won’t you?”

He looked at her and pushed some of hair back gently from her face. “You are an angel.”

She giggled. “Hardly. But it’s sweet you think so. Oh, and I’m taking that as a yes.” She leaned forward and kissed and sucked the skin under his ear, before softly running her tongue over the faint mark she had left. His arms tightened around her and she enjoyed how easily she could make him react.

“I think you should remind me of all the ways you’re not an angel.”

She shifted on his lap so she was straddling him, mindful of his knee, and grinned. “I can do that.”

 

DAY 72

The last time Gold had knocked on Dr. Hopper’s door, it had ended disastrously – with the man, August, who was not his son, hideously betraying him.  Still, he found himself knocking again despite himself and this time he waited for the door to open, rather than attempting to leave prematurely.

When the door finally did open and Archie’s eyes fell upon Gold, a flash of panic crossed his face. “Are you here – ”

“No,” Gold cut him off and sighed. “I’m here to speak with you. You are a psychiatrist, I believe? This is what you do, is it not?”

“More or less,” Archie replied, having no urge to correct him on the finer details. “My patients, ah, normally make appointments, though.” Gold tightened his face into a frown. “But lucky for you, I do have a free moment now. Please, come in.” Archie stepped aside, allowing Gold to brush past him.

The room was familiar with bad memories of disappointment. But he was not here entirely for himself today. Taking a seat, he looked across at Archie who was visibly nervous but if Gold looked hard enough, he found traces of sympathy etched into his face too – remembering their last talk, no doubt.

“What can I do for you, Mr. Gold?”

“You have a new patient, I believe. Isabelle French.”

Archie shifted in his seat and cocked his head slightly. “Mr. Gold, I practice strict confidentiality measures with my patients. I am aware the whole town knows of her… ah, precarious case but I’m afraid you can only know as much as they do. In her case, especially.”

Gold gritted his teeth but he had been expecting this. “I understand. And respect that.” Archie deflated somewhat. It was true – Belle had become the subject of gossip enough as it was. “Is she showing signs of improvement, at least?”

“I cannot say to you,” Archie winced. “But I _can_ speak to _you_. There is clearly a great deal on your mind. Can you tell me the, uh, the nature of your concern?”

“Miss French, she… she means quite a lot to me. It is because of me she’s in her current predicament.”

Archie sat up at that, panic flashing across his face and his eyes glanced to his phone. “You – ”

“No, Dr. Hopper, I did not imprison her against her will in the basement of a hospital.” He let out a growl, folding his fingers tightly in his lip at the mere thought of Regina. “But… I did not stop it when I could have. I lost her, let her go and… this was the result.”

“You lost her as you did your son.” Archie spoke gingerly, lest he hit a nerve. After all, he was learning things about Gold no one else knew. When he got no response, he took it as a cue he could continue. “You’re shouldering a tremendous amount of guilt, Mr. Gold.”

“With good reason. It is my fault I lost both of them!”

“And now you have one back,” Archie spoke with new vigor, as if forgetting who he was advising. “Don’t you see? It’s a new start and, from your mannerisms I’m observing, this is what you’ve always wanted.”

“You’re forgetting one little detail, one that I’m sure you’ve become fully aware of.” Archie shrugged his shoulders at a loss. “She wants nothing to do with me. With good reason, I might add, but the point stands.”

Archie sighed. “You know I cannot address her sessions but I can tell you – call it the optimist in me – that I don’t believe all is lost. To be sure, of course, you must take it slow. You can only imagine what her… captivity has done to her.”

Gold saw red at the reminder. Death would be far, far too kind for Regina. “Take it slow, you say?” Archie nodded, offering a smile as encouragement. “Aye, slow.”

The next morning Gold delivered a single red rose to Moe French’s porch only to find it unceremoniously tossed back onto his porch later that day.

 

DAY 118

It was raining in Storybrooke – the kind of rain that chilled you to the bone. Gold drove slow, the windshield wipers clearing the rain only to have it obscure his vision moments later. His house has never seemed so far before. When it finally came into view, he could only think about the pot of tea he’d be making. As he pulled up, however, his heart started thundering – and not at the thought of tea.

Shivering and drenched, Belle was huddled up on his porch before his front door. He had barely gotten the key out of the ignition before he was hastily hobbling up the walkway, taking care not to slip.

“Belle,” he choked out and held out his hand. She slipped her smaller one into his and felt like ice. He placed his other hand on top of hers, worry and concern coursing through his blood.

“I didn’t know where else to go.” She looked up at him and he saw fear in her eyes. Without another word, he ushered her inside and drew a hot bath for her, just as he had done once long ago when she had spent far too long in the gardens in winter. But she hadn’t been scared that time.

He busied himself with making tea and while the kettle was heating, he leaned against the counter. He rubbed a hand over his face, wondering how they had ended up here. The shrill scream of the kettle boiling snapped him out of his thoughts. He poured two cups, one being the chipped cup, and sat down to wait.

It wasn’t long until Belle emerged in the kitchen, wrapped snug in a robe he had been able to find for her. He looked at her expectantly as she took a seat, her fingers curling around her cup, seeking its warmth. His heart was hammering in his chest.

“You really did keep it.” She sounded exhausted. It was as if the strength she had put forward to face her ordeal had finally been spent. He wanted nothing more than to take her into his arms and cradle her, whispering over and over how sorry he was and that he loved her and would do it right this time. Instead, he looked down at the cup that he had his own fingers wrapped around.

“I told you I did. I needed the memory of you, the memory of… how I failed you.”

She winced. “Wallowing in your regret will get you nowhere, Rumpelstiltskin. You have a lot to do to make up for everything but now you have your chance.” It sounded so much like what Dr. Hopper had told him that he dared to have hope.

“I’ll do anything.” And it sounded a little desperate but he meant it.

“I know you will.” She smiled shyly and looked down into her tea. “Regina came to see me.” Her voice trembled, from anger or fear or both he didn’t know but he growled all the same. “Said she wanted to check up on me, claimed taking me had been for my own good but I know. I know I was only a pawn to her, just because I love you.”

“Love…?”

“You stupid man,” she laughed. “I may be angry with you and you may have to earn me back but I have never stopped loving you. A bit hard to fight true love.”

He could hardly believe this was real. He half-wondered if everything had been a dream. Still, she continued to sit across from him as the clock ticked by. He swallowed. “I love you too.”

Her smile could have lit up the whole town. “And that’s progress for you. I know you mean it.”

It wasn’t the passionate declaration he knew others were so fond of, and that she deserved, but it was enough. “She’ll pay for what she did to you.”

Belle hesitated and shut her eyes for a moment, wrapping her fingers tighter around the mug. “Yes,” she opened her eyes again. “And for everything else she’s done. But I don’t intend to book you in jail again.” He remembered quite vividly the look on her face when Emma had brought him in for assault and vandalism. Belle had looked unimpressed, and he didn’t doubt she was, but he had also been acutely aware of the look of gratitude in her eyes as well.

“I don’t regret that.”

“I know you don’t but if you have any hope of winning me back, it’ll be difficult behind bars, regardless of the fact that I work there.” She sipped her tea and settled more comfortable into the chair. “Just like old times.”

He looked down at the cups, his chipped one and her whole one, and was flooded with memories. “I intend for it to be quite different, I assure you,” he spoke quietly.

A silence settled over them for several moments as they each drank their tea, reveling in being together again. Belle took a breath before speaking, “I was scared. Terrified. I still am. Sometimes I have nightmares that I’m back beneath the hospital, so cold and alone.” She stared at her teacup as if that’s what she was talking to and missed his pained expression.

“Belle… if I had known…”

“But you didn’t, and I am left with the memories. Dr. Hopper says I’m recovering surprisingly quick and well. He admires that I’m – how did he put it? – ‘weaving myself into the community’ by working with Emma and developing friendships like my one with Ruby.” She paused and swallowed. “But when he isn’t looking, when no one is looking…”

She choked on her own sob and he didn’t know who moved first, but somewhere behind him he heard his chair clatter to the floor as she crashed into his arms. She clung to the lapels of his suit as she cried. “You were supposed to come for me, I called your name so many times…”

“I know.” He smoothed down her hair and clung just as tight. “I know, Belle.”

He didn’t know how long they stayed that before she was sniffling and pulling away. Reluctantly, he let her. He dropped his arms and with one hand, reached out for his cane.

“I should get home before papa gets worried.” She smiled at him and he returned it, heart fluttering. She paused for a moment before stepping towards him and placing a hand upon his shoulder. His stomach tightened. Leaning up, she pressed a gentle kiss to his cheek and he gripped his cane more, eyes falling shut. “Thank you for listening,” she whispered.

 

DAY 1: REPRISE

“Belle! Belle, he’s waking up!”

Rumpelstiltskin was struggling through the darkness, pushing towards the surface and fighting to breathe. He felt weighted down and swallowed up. Somewhere he heard the flurry of steps and felt a sudden presence beside him, clutching at his hands.

“Rumpelstiltskin, open your eyes, please, for me, oh, Rumpelstiltskin.”

The voice was thick with tears and he was desperate for it, hungry for it, needed to come back to it. The darkness began to fade and when he gasped, a rush of oxygen came back to him and there were hands scrambling at his face, holding him as if were a treasure. He blinked his eyes open several times, the blurred image of a flushed and relieved brunette hovering over him and sitting beside him coming into view.

“Belle?” he croaked and winced as he tried to push himself up.

“Hush, don’t move.” She turned away and when he followed her eyeline, he saw his son and nearly sobbed himself. “Baelfire, go fetch the medicine. It’s in the blue vial.” When the younger man left the room, Belle turned her attention back to Rumpelstiltskin and smiled. She leaned down and pressed their foreheads together, breathing softly. “Oh, thank the gods you came back to us.”

Rumpelstiltskin closed his eyes as well and reveled in the feeling of being cherished.

“I, ah, got the medicine.” Bae stepped into the room awkwardly, holding up a blue vial.

Belle quickly sat up, wiping her eyes, and practically flew to Bae’s side to grab the vial. “Yes, very good. Thank you, Baelfire.” He nodded to her and stood back as she returned to his father’s side. “Can you sit up for me?” She sat down gingerly beside Rumpelstiltskin once more and cradled the vial in her lap.

Sure he could manage at least that, he used his forearms to lift himself and almost immediately as he had done so, collapsed back onto the bed.

“Oh! Baelfire, would you?” Belle gently eased a hand beneath Rumpelstiltskin’s back as his son quickly hurried over and carefully helped his father sit up and lean against the pillows. He stepped back as his father situated to get comfortable.

Rumpelstiltskin hissed in pain and when he pressed a hand against his breastbone above his heart, he gasped at the feeling of mangled skin. Swallowing, he tentatively pulled down his dressing gown and saw a raw and distorted scar over his heart. It was a horrible sight.

“Regina,” Belle supplied as Rumpelstiltskin looked up at her before he could ask. “She nearly had your heart, too, before I got to her. Well, Emma helped. She was the one who defeated Regina, of course but you… there was so much blood.” Belle’s voice jumped several octaves as she began to cry softly. “Red got you to safety while I… you gave us quite the scare. But you’re okay now. You’re okay.” She cupped his cheek and brushed her thumb across his smooth, green skin. “Well, you will be if you take your medicine.” She sat back and held up the vial.

Rumpelstiltskin scrunched up his face but with Belle’s expression set in stone, he heaved a sigh and grabbed the bottle and downed it at once. He coughed and tossed it beside him on the bed, wiping his mouth with his sleeve.

“So that’s where I get my distaste of medicine, huh?” Bae smiled at the sight.

Belle brushed some of Rumpelstiltskin’s hair back. “Get some rest, won’t you? Snow and Charming have invited us to a ball soon.” Ignoring the look of terror and disdain on his face, she leaned down to kiss his brow. At the last moment, however, he strained his neck and caught her lips with his own. She jumped back almost immediately, fast enough to see pink, human skin give way back to green. “What are you doing?”

Rumpelstiltskin sighed. “It’s over, dearie. I don’t want the Dark One anymore.”

“Papa…” Bae stepped forward, brow furrowed in confusion.

Rumpelstiltskin looked over at his son. “She hasn’t told you, has she?” Bae looked at Belle inquisitively before looking back at his father. “She didn’t want to get your hopes up. How very like her.” He glanced sideways at Belle for a moment who was staring pointedly at her hands. “There is another way to break my curse. And she is the one to do it.”

“Belle, you can – ”

“It’s your father’s choice, Baelfire. It always has been.” Belle looked straight at Rumpelstiltskin. “It’s forever.”

“Oh, I would hope so, love.” He smiled up at her and reached a hand slowly to slide behind her neck and urge her down. When their lips touched, he pressed harder and felt the cold hands of the Dark One release their grasp on his soul. He suddenly felt lighter, as if a dark cloud finally freed his conscience. When they parted, he let his arm drop and marveled at it, at the very human skin it now possessed. He looked up at Belle and glanced at Bae, both of whom were staring at him intently, eyes glossy. “Well, now. That’s much better.”

 

**Author's Note:**

> I purposely didn't write scenes of major events (Gold going after Regina, the battle, etc.) on purpose because that's not what this fic was trying to accomplish. Sooooo yeah, that's all I really wanted to say about that.
> 
> Now I want to write a fic about all this from Belle's perspective and just write about the awesome female friendships she forms with all the ladies of Storybrooke because ladies are awesome.
> 
> AND MAJOR, MAJOR THANKS TO MY LOVE LAUREN. She talked me through this one and came up with the idea for Gold's scar at the end and was just generally awesome all around. So this is dedicated to her. :D


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